


cheer for me, my cheerleader

by royalpeaches



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cheerleader Oikawa Tooru, Childhood Friends, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, Volleyball Player Iwaizumi Hajime, this is just fluff i tell you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalpeaches/pseuds/royalpeaches
Summary: “You were quite wild back there, Oikawa. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said you’ll make a good cheerleader.” He took a quick glance at Matsukawa who was in turn subtly holding back a laugh.Or where, Kuroo and Matsukawa are evil masterminds and Iwaizumi is so fucking in love.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 8
Kudos: 351





	cheer for me, my cheerleader

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a fanart with oiks as a cheerleader and i just - ✊✊
> 
> this is pretty self-indulgent,,, sorry

Sweat coats Iwaizumi’s entire body. His calves burn as he leans forward, hands on his knees. Droplets fell from his forehead and his breath came in pants as his eyes slowly and critically observes the players on the other side of the court. They were good, Iwaizumi had to give them that. Though they might be lacking a bit in their offense, they make up for their digs. Iwaizumi had a hard time getting a spike in at the start.

  
“Don’t mind, don’t mind,” Their captain’s voice rang out as another one of Iwaizumi’s spikes was received, albeit shakily, turning into the offensive side and effectively earning a block out.

  
He takes a peek at the scoreboard. 23-24 with them leading. Although they have secured the first set, it’s still not too late for the opposing team to change things around. They’ve got to stop their momentum. They can’t keep riding on their pace. Iwaizumi’s mind ran. 

  
A block out. No. They’ll still be able to connect. 

  
A feint. No. Their #4 is on the look out for those.

  
A cross. Their libero is waiting for that.

  
Fuck. Iwaizumi’s frown deepened as he considers all possibilities.

  
“IWA-CHANNNN!!! GO, GO I-WA-CHAN!!!” 

  
Iwaizumi winced as a loud and shrill voice echoes around the gym. The small crowd that have gathered to watch the practice match started to holler and cheer alongside. His teammates, on the other hand, began teasing him. And was that a wolf whistle he heard?

  
“Ohohoho. Your cheerleader’s here, Iwa-chan,” The tall middle blocker faced him with a grin wide on his face.

  
“Shut the fuck up before I punch you, Kuroo,” Iwaizumi glared at him, a menacing tone laced in his voice making the latter raise his arms up in mock surrender. “And don’t call me that.”

  
“Oh, yes. Boyfriend privileges,” He shared a look with Matsukawa – their other middle blocker, who was off the court (Iwaizumi laments about the fact that he still hasn’t gotten rid of them – them being the chaotic trio Iwaizumi has the misfortune to put up with since high school). Before he could remind them (again!) that they were _not_ like that, Oikawa’s loud voice cut him off.

  
“IWA-CHAN!!!! DON’T USE YOUR HEAD TO MUCH! YOU’LL LOSE ALL YOUR BRAIN CELLS,” The students all laughed wildly at that. “NOT THAT YOU HAVE TOO MANY TO BEGIN WITH.”

  
Iwaizumi’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Oikawa was a person who rarely feels shame. He relishes being in the spotlight and gloats all the attention given to him. That’s why he has no qualms shouting and dramatically cheering their team on.  
But as much as Oikawa’s words were an encouragement for their team (he doesn’t dwell on the fact that Oikawa had only been shouting Iwaizumi’s name), they also served as a reminder for Iwaizumi. 

  
Volleyball has been incorporated long and deep in his muscles. He doesn’t have to think too hard and fret about it. Trust Oikawa to figure Iwaizumi’s inner turmoil. Well, that’s how they have always been. Observant and knowing of each other’s thoughts and moods. They have been with each other for too long – his earliest memories were with Oikawa, were of Oikawa – it would not come as a surprise that they have made a home in the other’s presence. 

  
And so, as the whistle blew and the other team serves, their libero perfectly received it towards their setter. Iwaizumi moved fast, his feet running before skidding to a halt, and then he jumped, arm extended to perfectly meet the ball that came to his way. And with all his force, spiked the ball down, just narrowingly missing the court line.

  
The ball made a resounding thud as it touched the floor before bouncing a little and rolling away. There was silence, then the whistle blew again – a long one this time – indicating their win, and the gym erupted in claps and joyful cheers. Iwaizumi fists his hand in silent victory and before he knew it, he got an armful of a tall brunette, happily babbling on how proud he is of Iwaizumi for making that final kill, and that in no time he would be the ace of the team.

  
And _oh god_ , Oikawa just has to be this over-dramatic over a practice match. The crowd was openly staring at them, with Oikawa’s need for such a display of affection. And Iwaizumi knew his team wouldn’t live this down and that he would be subject to endless teasing after this. But the warmth from Oikawa was nice, he begrudgingly admits. Both of them don’t seem to mind the heavy sweat from Iwaizumi’s body. Well, that was what he thought.

  
“Iwa-chan is so sweaty,” Oikawa whispered on the curve of his neck. 

  
With that, Iwaizumi pulled him off of him. “Of course, dumbass,” Oikawa only laughed loudly. 

  
“Oi, ‘waizumi, your boyfriend can wait,” Iwaizumi’s eyes roll at Matsukawa’s voice.

  
“Hmph. Matsun is just jealous because Makki’s been spending a lot of time with his suuuuuuper handsome lab partner,” Oikawa teased, sticking his tongue out for emphasis.

  
Matsukawa’s brows furrowed and as he looks like ready to hit Oikawa, Iwaizumi spoke, “Just wait outside, Shittykawa,” His eyes roamed around the students slowly leaving the gym and the other school’s team packing their things up. “We’ll finish up here quickly.”

  
“Hmph. Fineeee,” Oikawa grabbed at his arm. “But don’t take too long, Iwa-chan. You shouldn’t keep Oikawa-san waiting.” 

  
Iwaizumi looked up to see Oikawa’s infuriating grin. He harshly tugged off his arm. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

  
Oikawa giggled before patting his head, and skipping ( _oh gods, skipping_ ) out of the gym. Once Oikawa left, he joined his team in stretching.

  
“IWA-CHAN! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”

  
“IWA-CHAN! YOU’RE SO STRONG! YOUR MUSCLES REALLY ARE NOT FOR SHOW ONLY!!”

  
“IWA-CHAN, YOU LOOKED SO COOL SPIKING THE BALL!”

  
Iwaizumi ignored Kuroo’s attempts at mimicking Oikawa. It was almost comical, pitching his voice high with the matching crossed legs and dreamy eyes, and with the rest of the team laughing heartedly and following Kuroo’s antics, it was supposed to be funny. If only he wasn’t the brunt of it all. In his head he can picture Oikawa yelling that he _does not_ look like that at all.

  
So he turned to Matsukawa, finding solace in his now broody friend, “So, Makki, huh?” He supposed the punch to his arm was well-deserved.

  
**

  
Their seniors excused themselves for an early night, leaving them – first-years by themselves. Oikawa was alone by the gates when they walked out. He was happily munching on a piece of milk bread, phone held on the other hand. It was still an unusual sight for Iwaizumi. Being by Oikawa’s side for so many years grew him accustomed to the gaggle of girls always surrounding the former, phones out and gifts ready. And Oikawa soaked it all up like the attention-seeker prick he is. Well, the attraction was still there, girls and boys alike drawn to Oikawa’s charm, but they were more mature in their approach. The squealing girls have been replaced by being forwardly asked out.

  
“Yo, Oikawa,” Kuroo called, walking ahead of them to where Oikawa is. Iwaizumi doesn’t like the sly grin spread across the raven’s face.

  
“Tetsu-chan, you kept Iwa-chan for so long,” Oikawa whined, his bottom lip jutting out. “I was so bored.”

  
Kuroo paid no mind to Oikawa’s words. He slung an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders. “You were quite wild back there, Oikawa. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said you’ll make a good cheerleader.” He took a quick glance at Matsukawa who was in turn subtly holding back a laugh, angsty aura long gone. 

  
They were up to something. Iwaizumi just knew it. They had been talking by themselves a while ago, occasionally glancing at Iwaizumi. At that time, he didn’t mind it, but now, he can’t help but think they’re plotting something that might somehow involve him.

  
Oikawa’s mouth twisted. “A cheerleader? Your ideas are wild, Tetsu-chan.” He replied before breaking out into a laugh.

  
Despite his suspicions, Iwaizumi can’t help but snort, too. A cheerleader? Oikawa? He can’t even sway his hips to save his life. Not to mention, he was a man towering over most people in his 184 cm glory. Though, he was lean, it will still be strange to look at.

  
“Think about it, Oikawa,” Matsukawa joins Kuroo, slinging his arm on the other side of Oikawa’s shoulders, pitching their three heads together – as if in a secret meeting. Which, was utterly ridiculous because 1.) Iwaizumi is right in front of them and 2.) They had no intention of keeping their voices low.

  
Oikawa’s confused frown mirrored Iwaizumi’s. “All the people here – and when I say all, it’s _all_ \- loves the cheerleaders.” 

  
Oikawa’s ears twitched – okay, maybe they didn’t. But, Iwaizumi knew that if they do could twitch, he’ll be like a puppy, attentive on the treat that’s coming next. And of course, Matsukawa knows that. Three years is enough to discover Oikawa’s absolute weaknesses – in this case, the attention and love of presumingly the entirety of their university.

  
“Just imagine it,” Matsukawa’s hands gestured wildly yet slowly to stress his point. “Everybody would be looking at you. They’d be looking forward to see your cheers, your dances. Everybody would shout for your name. The cheerleaders of the cheerleaders.” 

  
Iwaizumi laughs at the mental image of Oikawa dancing – which was a grateful term for violently flailing his body around in a poor attempt to sync with the music. As much of a daredevil Oikawa is, he would never do something as big as tarnishing his reputation in front of a large crowd – something Iwaizumi knows he’d be doing if he takes up their suspicious offer.

And the grimace on Oikawa’s face says so, too. But just as he’s about to turn them down, Kuroo starts, “And when Iwa – “

  
Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes as the three men in front of him slowly travelled their eyes to meet his own. He crossed his arms as one of his eyebrows raised.

  
Then, as one, they all turned around, facing their backs to him, resuming their conversation, but this time, quietly. His frown deepened as all he could hear were hushed whispers. So, he had been right all along. They really were scheming something that involves Iwaizumi. But what confuses him is how is it any related to convincing Oikawa on being a cheerleader? If he thinks about it, it would look like they’re planning against Oikawa, putting him up with something incredibly ridiculous but tempting to his ears. But then, he also heard his name. And now, they’re being secretive – real secretive this time.

  
“Oi, what are you talking about?” Matsukawa only raised a hand above him, signalling him to keep quiet as they continued talking.

  
After what felt like forever, they finally raised their heads and turned back around to face Iwaizumi’s threatening glare. 

  
“We’ll go ahead now,” And with that, Kuroo and Matsukawa quickly left, fast on their feet, shouting a _‘don’t die’_ behind their backs. Oikawa cursed as he sheepishly met Iwaizumi’s gaze.

  
“Hehehe. Iwa-chan’s so grumpy~” Iwaizumi’s ears burned as Oikawa’s hands smoothened the angry lines on Iwaizuimi’s eyebrows, slowly diffusing Iwaizumi’s scowl. He slapped his hands away, earning a whimper from the taller, clutching his hand as if it actually hurt.

  
“What the fuck were you talking about, Shittykawa?” 

  
“Iwa-chan is so mean! We were talking about how Iwa-chan should not hit the Great Oikawa-san anymore.” Iwaizumi’s eyes rolled. He figured he would not be getting anything out of Oikawa. The bastard really knows how to keep his mouth tight and deflect the topic.

  
“You’re buying dinner tonight,” He finally said, walking ahead.

  
Oikawa quickly caught up to him, grabbing a hold of his arm and tucking his hand in the bend of Iwaizumi’s elbow. Heat radiated from Oikawa’s touch despite the barrier of Iwaizumi’s jacket. He hastily shook off the thought. Fucking Oikawa and his fucking wandering hands.

  
“Of course! There’s this diner Makki told me about.” And with that, Oikawa leads them to along the busy streets. 

  
It was only a short walk until they reached their destination. The diner was not quite big but it was alive, with a lot of customers flooding the place. Oikawa’s hand moved up to Iwaizumi’s bicep, tightening his hold as they squeeze through the crowd. His grip loosened, though, when a group of friends started getting up from their table, almost separating them when they too started exiting the diner. Iwaizumi would have berated Oikawa for choosing this place if it wasn’t for the subtle alarm in his eyes, overwhelmed by the amount of people closing in on him all at once. 

  
Iwaizumi took the hand Oikawa had been poorly gripping with in his grasp, his hold firm and strong as he leads them to an empty table on the corner. It took a few more _‘excuse me’s_ ’ and maybe a few light shoves to get to the spot.

  
Oikawa let out a sigh of relief as they finally settled in. “Ugh. I swear, Iwa-chan, I didn’t know this place was this crowded,” He started, cutting Iwaizumi off before he could even start.

  
It’s not like Iwaizumi minded it that much really. He had just been tired, especially from a gruelling match, and all he wanted for now was some peace and quiet. But, with Oikawa’s eyes flashing with guilt, he couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

  
“It’s fine,” He waved his hand, dismissively. A waiter quickly got to them, taking in their orders.

  
While waiting for the food, Oikawa continued to talk – now, something about another alien movie that had just been released (Iwaizumi does not think how endearing it is that Oikawa seemed to have not yet grown up on his obsession with all things extra-terrestrial – nope, he absolutely does not). His ears drift now and then to Oikawa’s babbles, catching the most important parts lest he might question Iwaizumi later on. 

  
His body began to warm the longer they stayed. He took off his jacket, messily shoving it in his bag. A sheen coat of sweat started to form on his neck and forehead. He leaned back against his seat, spreading his legs as he started to fan himself with his shirt. 

  
He looked at Oikawa when his talking quietened down. His mouth turned down when he sees the latter looking away, flush high on his cheeks.

  
“That’s it?” He questioned, confused at the sudden stop.

  
“I – uhm – yeah. I forgot what happened next,” Oikawa answered, leaning his head onto his palm as he rested his elbow on the table.

  
When their orders arrived, however, Oikawa resumed talking as they dug in, sloppily telling Iwaizumi about this very strict professor, gossips around his block, and the usual critics on the new people around him. Oikawa also prompts him to tell about his day – the usual, ever since they started college. He talks like they haven’t seen each other for so long when in fact they go to the same university and live in one apartment. But Oikawa defends that they don’t see each other that much since they have different courses – buildings not too far, but not exactly near enough to meet everyday – and that Iwaizumi has volleyball. Sometimes, practices get really late and all Iwaizumi comes home to is a cold dinner and an Oikawa dead asleep on the couch (even though Iwaizumi reminds him again and again not to wait up for him). So, he indulges Oikawa – who thrives in conversation and affection.

  
The walk back home was silent. Both of their stomachs full and sated. When they arrived home, it’s like a switch turned on inside Oikawa and was now openly demanding Iwaizumi to watch a movie with him, to which he reminds the former that the both of them have early classes the next day.

  
“But, Iwa-chan, 9 is not too early,” he whined, draping his form around Iwaizumi’s back as he removes his shoes in their _genkan_. “And, I’ll set an alarm, promise.”

  
He looked back to see Oikawa with his right hand raised in a promise, eyes wide and convincing.

  
He sighed, “I get to pick.”

  
“Yes – I – huh – nooooo,” Oikawa toed off his shoes as he followed Iwaizumi in. “You picked last time,” he said, pointing a finger at Iwaizumi.

  
Iwaizumi dropped his bag on the couch, then his body, closing his eyes as his ears were filled with Oikawa’s grumbles.

  
“No, _you_ picked last time because you were stressed and wanted to watch Avatar,” He slowly said. The couch was not that soft but it was cozy enough that Iwaizumi might be able to doze off after a tiring day.

  
As if sensing his sleepy state, Oikawa collapsed on top of Iwaizumi effectively snapping him out of his stupor.

  
He groaned as Oikawa’s heavy weight fell down on him. 

  
“Oi, get off!” He pushed at Oikawa’s shoulder. “You’re heavy.”

  
“Rude, Iwa-chan!” He didn’t make any move to get up, though. “It’s comfy here,” Oikawa merely answered as he folded his legs underneath him and wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist. His hot breath touched Iwaizumi’s neck causing shivers to run through his body.

  
“If you’re just going to sleep, go to your room,” Iwaizumi growled but his hands went up to card his fingers through Oikawa’s hair, a pleased hum coming from the latter’s throat.

  
“No,” Oikawa yawned. “We’re still – we’re still watching a movie. But let me just close my eyes real quick. Just real quick, Iwa-chan.”

  
Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at the obvious lie. As Oikawa’s breath evened out, he too closed his eyes for a quick nap. His back was going to be sore and his neck, too, (and even though Oikawa initiated it, he would endlessly complain on how he can’t feel his legs anymore and that Iwaizumi should have been the bigger man and not let them sleep on the couch) but it was also – ironically, Iwaizumi thought - comfortable. He dropped his touch on Oikawa’s hair and instead draped it around his waist, rubbing tiny circles with his thumb. And with that, Iwaizumi fell into deep sleep.

  
**

  
It was mid-afternoon when Hanamaki came to him, all wide grin and playful eyes.

  
“Yo, ‘waizumi. You busy?” He asked as he sat down next to Iwaizumi on the grass. 

  
Their campus had a little park - for lack of a better word. And the weather was nice enough – the wind blowing softly and the sun hidden partially behind the clouds. Iwaizumi was reading through his textbook but the words were not clearly registering to him. He was supposed to be doing some advanced reading but then nothing would sink in. Despite the perfect weather, it was not exactly an ideal environment to focus – what so with all the noise and commotion, so he has resorted to scrolling mindlessly through his phone. Until Hanamaki came. And with all the bullshit written all across his face.

  
“What do you want?” He directly asked. They have been friends long enough to know every expression each other makes.

  
“Hmm. Nothing,” Hanamaki innocently replied. “I just want to talk to you.” He stared into Iwaizumi’s eyes before glancing away, a tell-tale sign he does want something from Iwaizumi.

  
When Iwaizumi remained quiet, he slowly spoke.

  
“Actually – “

  
“IWAIZUMI,” He turned his head to see Kuroo and Matsukawa jogging lightly to them. Like Hanamaki, they both wore shit-eating grins. He narrowed his eyes at the three.

  
“Do you wanna play volleyball?” Matsukawa asked him, when they reached by their spot, biting his lip so as not to let his mouth turn upwards.

  
“The gym is empty. C’mon,” Hanamaki snorted at Kuroo’s words as the latter dragged him up by his arms, impatient. 

  
His mouth opened as his mind began to question of _what the fuck is going on._

  
“What? Coach said to rest today,” He reminded as Hanamaki placed his hands in Iwaizumi’s shoulders, pushing him – which was troublesome since Kuroo was also clutching his arm while dragging him.

  
“No, it’s okay – just c’mon,” Kuroo answered, exasperated.

  
“For a little while only. It’s been a long time since we played together,” Hanamaki followed, urgently pushing Iwaizumi.

  
“Hey – what – what the fuck is going on. Let – let go of me,” He struggled against both of their grips, exhaling slowly once they finally let go.

  
“I can walk by myself – what the fuck,” He said.

  
Matsukawa tapped his foot. “Walk faster, oh my god,” He moaned, rubbing his hands against his face.

  
He glared at them. They were all restless, but the good way he guessed. The kind where they’re all waiting for a good treat. Are they really that excited to play volleyball? 

  
He scowled but also walked faster. The sooner he gets there, the sooner he knows what all of this is about.

  
The gym was in fact not empty. In fact, many students were there, talking by themselves along the bleachers. It was not that crowded but it was a good number for an audience. Audience because in the center of the gym were the cheerleaders. 

  
Iwaizumi looked back at them. They were no longer hiding their smirks. They walked further inside. Is this it? Are they trying to hook him up with one of the girls? 

  
He voiced his thoughts to them. 

  
Kuroo’s jaw dropped as Matsukawa only looked smug as if he was entirely expecting Iwaizumi to ask this.

  
Hanamaki laughed. “N-no. We need to look for Oikawa,”

  
Oikawa? Are they trying to hook Oikawa up with the cheerleaders? Then why the hell does he need to be here?

  
His eyes roamed around as he tried to look for the tall brunette among the bleachers in front of him – probably together with his newly made friends like the great social butterfly that he is.

  
“Oi, there he is – Oikawa!” Kuroo shouted at the same time the talking around them got louder.

  
He turned around.

  
Oh.

  
_Oh_.

  
Oikawa was there. Dressed fully in their _cheerleading uniform_. 

  
Oh gods.

  
Iwaizumi’s eyes met Oikawa’s. His mind was blank. He doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making because all that comes to his mind is Oikawa looks _so fucking good_ in a skirt. 

  
Fuck.

  
Iwaizumi’s gaze was drawn immediately towards Oikawa’s bare legs – and _oh my god. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_. Has his legs always been this _perfect_? They were long and slim and looks so smooth (what the fuck, does this man not grow hair, or _holy fuck_ , does he shave). His eyes travelled up to the skirt – the _fucking tiny_ skirt that barely covers his porcelain skin, then to his bare waist (and _oh gods_ , it’s so fucking small, _what the fuck_ ), then to the halter crop top fitted tightly to his form, then back to his face – which was now colored with a heavy blush.

  
His eyes went all over Oikawa’s body once more as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

  
Loud laughter snapped him out of his trance. It’s like he was underwater a while ago and then reaching up the surface to hear all the noise again. His jaw was slack as he tried to find the words to say.

  
“Holy shit,” Kuroo continued laughing. “You – you, ha, you were so checking him out. Oh my god.” He was obviously struggling to talk.

  
Iwaizumi’s body warmed as his words sunk in. His cheeks heated up and so did his ears. He looked at Oikawa once more, who was now sheepishly smiling at him. 

  
“I-I was not. Shut up,” Iwaizumi stammered.

  
Suddenly, Oikawa was walking up to them. And only now did he remember that they have an audience – eyes on them, watching them, specifically, Oikawa. Iwaizumi kept his eyes forwards, focusing on the taller man as he stood in front of Iwaizumi.

  
“Iwa-chan,” He breathes.

  
This close he could smell Oikawa’s cologne, a sweet lavender scent. Then he noticed the ribbons wrapped around Oikawa’s hair, an attempt for a double ponytail. _It’s too fucking cute, oh my fuck_.

  
Iwaizumi reddened as he clears his throat. “You – you, uhm, joined cheerleading?” He asked, stuttering.

  
Oikawa bit his lip to contain his smile. “Hmm. They’re really convincing,” He tilted his friends to their friends who were still giggling among themselves.

  
“So, how is it?” Oikawa added.

  
“Huh?” Iwaizumi dumbly questioned.

  
Oikawa giggled before gesturing to his outfit. “Does it look weird on me?”

  
_Fucking no. You look fucking gorgeous_. Iwaizumi has still enough inhibition to bite back those words. He ran a hand over his nape, looking down at his shoes before looking up again at Oikawa.

  
“Uhm, n-no, no. You ,er, you look – okay, yeah, okay,” He cursed internally at his choice of words. _Okay? Fucking coward_.

  
Oikawa doesn’t seem to mind, though. His eyes were light and full with mirth.

  
“Iwa-chan is so red,” Oikawa laughed. 

  
“Shut up, dumbass,” Iwaizumi retorted, shoving his shoulder lightly. Banter with Oikawa has always been reflexive to him.

  
“Iwaizumi, what do you think?” The three of them have finally relaxed from their fit and now stood beside him and Oikawa, Kuroo wrapping an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders. Iwaizumi’s gaze followed the action and a sour weight twisted in his stomach. He stared blankly at the raven.

  
“Told ‘ya _our_ Oikawa would make a good cheerleader,” Kuroo provoked. He said nothing.

  
“Cut it, Kuroo,” Oikawa shrugged of his arm, to which he only chuckled at. 

  
“I didn’t think you’d really do it,” Iwaizumi vaguely gestured around him. And it was true. It has been – what, 2 weeks – since Kuroo and Matsukawa planted the seeds of their mischief. And Oikawa has not showed any interest after that at all. And Iwaizumi had been utterly busy with his academics and volleyball that he forgot the conversation happened in the first place.

  
“Never doubt your senpais’ abilities,” Hanamaki and Matsukawa pointed to themselves, wiggling their eyebrows.

  
He grimaced just as Oikawa muttered an ‘ _ew_ ’.  


  
The both of them only snickered as they slapped each other’s hands.

  
“But, yeah. They really convinced me,” Iwaizumi nodded, then his eyes dropped back down to Oikawa’s legs ( _which look so fucking better up close_ ), then realizing what he’s doing, instantly looked away, blush returning to his face. He ignored Kuroo who was moving his brows up and down, with his mouth tilted sideward in a smirk – Iwaizumi’s predicament not going unnoticed by him.

  
“Anyways, we’re using the gym. So no volleyball for you,” Oikawa wagged his index finger at them. Then his brows scrunched, “Isn’t it your rest day today?”

  
“Yeah. We’ll just be up there,” Kuroo beckoned at the empty bleachers.

  
Oikawa hummed. “Okay. Don’t stare too hard, Iwa-chan,” He teased, walking backwards.

  
“Hah. More like don’t embarrass yourself.”

  
Oikawa only smiled before turning around to join his teammates.

  
“Bro, you should have known never to underestimate Oikawa,” Hanamaki said, Matsukawa nodding along, as they made their way up the benches.

  
They took their seats just as he saw one of the girls hand Oikawa a pair of pom-poms. At this distance, he was able to appreciate Oikawa’s form more. Their uniform was black and white and it was really something – what with all the skin showing. 

  
Oikawa seemed to fit in. Despite his initial thoughts, Oikawa looked like he belonged in the team, in cheerleading. He had the charisma and the enthusiasm. And a pretty face. And a pretty body. And pretty legs. 

  
_Fuck_.

  
As if sensing the inappropriate thoughts rushing through his head, Oikawa turned his head around to face them, raising his hand in a peace sign as he winked and stuck his tongue out.

  
His friends laughed as they all nudged Iwaizumi, Kuroo even daring to hoot. He looked down as they all attracted the attention of the other students. He ran a hand through his hair, running his tongue over his lips, then glanced up to meet Oikawa’s gaze. At this, Oikawa smiled, a genuine one, wide and all teeth, eyes crinkled and pink tinting his cheeks, before fully directing his focus on their work. He looked down again and this time, he can’t stop the smile forming on his own lips.

  
**

  
Iwaizumi never learned his lesson.

  
Time and time again, Oikawa always proves that once he’s set his mind to something, he really excels at it. And now, it’s no different this time.

  
Hanamaki told him that he should’ve never underestimated Oikawa. And _shit_. 

  
They really were just warming up – the cheerleaders. Just a short dance routine to get them in the mood. But – Oikawa – _fucking shit_.

  
He can’t keep his eyes away from Oikawa’s skirt every time he sways his hips. Because, apparently, when Oikawa sets his mind to it, he can move his body gracefully like the fucking temptress that he is. Really. The skirt barely covers enough skin that occasionally he can see the black cycling shorts underneath. 

  
And something about that makes him want to stand up and wrap Oikawa around his body protectively because there are too many eyes on him fucking hell. He fists his hand to keep his irritation in check. Iwaizumi just looks at Oikawa to distract himself at the though that they are not alone and that it wouldn’t be reasonable to want to keep Oikawa’s body all for himself to see. 

  
Matsukawa had told him that the day after they suggested this idea to Oikawa, he has already signed up to be a member. And that he’s been practicing regularly to coordinate his body in time with the music. And he must be really practicing diligently because Oikawa is fucking killing it. 

  
They’ve got their backs turned on Iwaizumi and he just knew that if he were up front he wouldn’t have survived a minute.

,  
He takes his time appreciating Oikawa’s back profile. The sweat on his nape and back, the tantalizing arch of his spine, the – 

  
_How many fucking time has he looked at Oikawa today?_

  
Iwaizumi can’t help it. Oikawa in his cheerleader attire should be entirely illegal. He has always found Oikawa beautiful, objectively and subjectively. And maybe he’s liked ~~(loved)~~ him for a while now ( ~~for 3 years now~~ ). But, to be honest, he is not exactly pining that much. Oikawa loves him, prioritizes him. He takes care of Iwaizumi and makes him absolutely happy. Sure, there might be a few ( ~~too many~~ ) instances where he wished he could just grab Oikawa and kiss him silly, and maybe finally, finally get to call him – _his_. 

  
But, over time, he’s learned to come in terms with it. He might not get to kiss him, but he could always bring Oikawa in his arms, cuddle him, hug him, embrace him – things that might be just as intimate, maybe even more. And he might not be Oikawa’s boyfriend, but he is _his best friend_ – and so much more than that. Oikawa is his just as he is Oikawa’s. And he knows that no matter what happens, it’s always to each other they come back home to. They have something deeper that no lover could ever compare. But he also can’t help the possessive arm around Oikawa’s waist whenever someone gets too close for comfort. And it’s not like Oikawa chides him for it, only smiling knowingly before nuzzling closer to Iwaizumi’s side, so he doesn’t stop doing it. Moments like these, where Iwaizumi initiates affection, always please him because he can clearly see the surprise in Oikawa’s eyes accompanied by the reddening of his cheeks, before indulging Iwaizumi. And times like these make him hover over dangerous territory where he thinks that maybe, _just maybe_ , Oikawa might be into him, too.

  
Iwaizumi takes a few moments to watch Oikawa before darting his eyes to his friends, joining in their conversation.

  
It was a little after 7 when they called it a night. 

  
There were still students present in the gym, despite the time. Kuroo has left earlier, claiming that he still had a report to work on, leaving him alone with Matsukawa and Hanamaki. They made their way down the court as Oikawa bid goodbye with his teammates.

  
“Iwa-chan, let’s go,” Oikawa said as he reached by them. Iwaizumi handed him his bag.

  
“You’re not going to change?” 

  
Oikawa glanced down at his uniform, answering, “I’ll just shower at home. It’s not that far and it’s already dark. It’s all right.”

  
As the four of them walked out the gym with Hanamaki and Oikawa talking by themselves, Matsukawa muttered, “Man, I’m craving for some _ikayaki_ right now.”

  
Iwaizumi’s stomach grumbled at the sound of food. “There are some stalls on the next corner, we should go there,” Hanamaki suggested.

  
“Pass,”

  
“Sure,”

  
Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa incredulously. 

  
“Are you serious?” He can’t help the rise of volume in his voice.

  
“It’s just for a while, Iwa-chan,” he started. “You’re hungry, I’m hungry, everybody’s hungry. Let’s go,” He grabbed Iwaizumi’s arm, starting to drag him along with their two friends.

  
“No,” He firmly stated, staying still in his spot which caused Oikawa to be pulled back to him. “We’re going home, you’re going to change, and we’ll catch them up later.”

  
“But I want to go now,” Oikawa pouted, his voice also firm as he crossed his arms petulantly. They had an intense stare off before Hanamaki cut in.

  
“Oh my fuck – are you coming or not?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“No.”

  
“Holy – just give him your jacket or something, Iwaizumi. Hurry up or we’re leaving you here.”

  
And that is how Iwaizumi ended up with a pleased Oikawa by his side, moaning as he eats his _takoyaki_.

  
Despite having rejected the suggestion early-on, he really was hungry, so he gobbled down his food while also making sure Oikawa was comfortable and safe. The small market was not so packed but there was still a fair number of people. Iwaizumi’s jersey jacket only did so little but _at least_ there was something.

  
Seeing Oikawa’s eyes light up as he pulls Iwaizumi to different stalls was pleasant, though. Hanamaki and Matsukawa has long separated from them. Oikawa was now slurping down his mango shake. They walked around for a little while before finding a bench just outside the stalls. They sat down for a while, quiet, as they observed the people in front of them. 

  
Oikawa shivered when a wind blew past them.

  
“Cold?” Oikawa only looked at him for a while before dropping his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

  
“A little. But Iwa-chan is such a gentleman – giving me his jacket, so it’s okay.”

  
Iwaizumi scoffed, before he turned silent again, Oikawa’s breathing the only noise in his ears. When another wind blew, Oikawa rubbed his bare legs together, bracing them for warmth against the cold.

  
Iwaizumi glanced down at the action. And now – he’s up close with Oikawa’s porcelain thighs. Holy fuck. They look so smooth. He was just a mere touch away. And –

  
Oikawa jolted. And only did Iwaizumi’s mind register that his fucking hand moved on its own, resting it upon Oikawa’s thigh. 

  
_Holy shit._

  
_Shit._

  
He was right. Oikawa’s legs really were smooth. He needs to move his hand away. Fuck. This is going to be the death of him. He needs to move – _but his legs_. He dared to glance down again at his hand atop Oikawa’s exposed thigh, looking like it belonged there. He so badly wanted to squeeze the flesh, dig his fingers into it, mark it, kiss it, taste it – _fuck_. He shouldn’t be thinking about kissing and marking Oikawa’s legs in public, goddamnit. His body heated at the thought, though. No. He’s a gentleman. He will not be thinking about fucking Oikawa three ways into Sunday. 

  
He makes to pull his hand when Oikawa whispered, “Iwa-chan’s hand is warm.”

  
He looked up at Iwaizumi with his innocent, big eyes, making him gulp at the implication of Oikawa’s words. When Oikawa broke the stare, Iwaizumi’s eyes went back to his hand. He slowly, really slowly, travelled it downward to Oikawa’s knee. He stayed still for a few moments, relishing in the contact of his hand to Oikawa’s porcelain skin. Then, using his thumb, he made tiny circles, eliciting goose bumps from the man. 

  
After a few moments of that, he moved his hand upwards again, continuing the movement of his thumb. His calloused hand felt so amazing against Oikawa’s smooth skin. Then, as if it has a mind of its own, his hand climbed a tad bit upward, just a few centimeters below the skirt. Oikawa’s breath hitched as he gripped on Iwaizumi’s shirt. 

  
“D-Do you want me to – “

  
“No, no. No, it’s – it’s fine,” Oikawa replied.

  
Iwaizumi rubbed his hand up and down Oikawa’s thigh slowly and repeatedly, warmth seeping from the contact of skin to skin. Oikawa’s shoulders tensed and his clutch on Iwaizumi tightened when the latter splayed his fingers, his pinky touching Oikawa’s inner thigh. He waited for a few minutes, unmoving, then he resumed his motion from a while ago. And just when he was getting the hang of it, getting a bit comfortable, Iwaizumi’s hand accidentally went further up enough to feel Oikawa’s cycling shorts. At this, Oikawa’s legs shut close trapping some of his fingers between the tight heat of his thighs. Iwaizumi loudly gulped.

  
Fuck. Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard –   


  
Oikawa tilted his head at him, “ _Hajime_ ,”

  
Shit. His eyes darted towards Oikawa’s swollen lips as though he had been biting and licking at them the whole time. Then, back up to Oikawa’s eyes. He could just lean in. Lean in and claim Oikawa’s lips with his own. Oikawa’s breath hit his chin, then he licked his lips – and fuck, Iwaizumi is a goner. He leaned closer, their lips centimeters away. He looked up at Oikawa’s eyes once more only to find them fluttering shut. On instinct, Iwaizumi did the same. Iwaizumi’s jaw slacked as Oikawa parted his mouth open a little.

  
“There you two are.”

  
Both of them pulled away from each other lightning quick. His hands formed into fists as he glared at the two intruders. Oikawa cleared his throat then stood up. He avoided Iwaizumi’s stare as he greeted their friends, exclaiming _we looked everywhere for you_.

  
Fuck. He had been so close. He rubbed his hands against his face harshly to shake himself off. He carded his fingers through his hair before following them. 

  
Oh, he was so going to kill them.

  
**

  
_“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathes. His hair was messy and wet from sweat._

  
_“Iwa-chan, p-please, hurry up.” He whined as he raises his arms up to Iwaizumi._

  
_Iwaizumi leaned closer to him as Oikawa’s arms wrapped around his neck. “I got you, baby.”_

  
_Then he slid in slowly, groaning at the tight, wet heat enveloping his cock. Oikawa moaned, pitch high as he threw his head back. Iwaizumi took advantage of this and peppered kisses along the column of his throat, occasionally biting and nipping at the skin._

  
_Oikawa’s legs hooked around his waist, impatiently muttering, “Move, please. Iwa-chan, move.”_

  
_Iwaizumi leaned back to sit on his hunches, gripping Oikawa’s waist, pulling out a little and then thrusting back in, hard and deep. Oikawa’s toes curled at the sensation._

  
_“Fuuucck, nghhh,” He sobbed._

  
_Iwaizumi repeated it a few times before finding a steady and fast pace. He watched as Oikawa’s cock bounced with every thrust he made. He eyed the way Oikawa whimpered every time Iwaizumi’s cock brushed past his prostate and then changing the angle to avoid it – torturing Oikawa._

  
_He grabbed one of Oikawa’s legs, tossing it over his shoulder, kissing his calf while making sure to remain eye contact with him. He pressed open-mouthed kisses up to his thigh, then further up._

  
_“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, please,” Oikawa begged, almost close to tears. “I want to cum, please.”_

  
_Oikawa’s eyes were glazed, pupils dilated. Iwaizumi moved to kiss the pout off his lips –_

  
Iwaizumi’s eyes shot open. He felt hot and sweaty. He exhaled slowly, covering his eyes with an arm. It has been exactly three days since the – what he calls as – Greatest Cockblock Of His Poor Pining Lovelife. The morning after, Oikawa had not acted any different. He was still talkative and touchy, as he always is. 

  
But it had been harder for Iwaizumi. Literally harder. For consecutive nights, he’d been waking up to dreams of fucking Oikawa. He peeked his eyes open to see the tent in his boxers. He groaned. Fucking hell.

  
He should not do it. Nope. He wouldn’t be doing – 

  
His hand slowly crept to his cock, gripping it underneath his boxers. He slowly moved his hand up and down, using his thumb to smear his pre-cum all over his length. His eyes closed as his mind made up dirty scenarios of him and Oikawa fucking.

  
This time, it was of Oikawa on his knees with Iwaizumi’s cock down his throat. He looked really pretty, lips red and swollen and with unshed tears in his eyes as he takes Iwaizumi deeper. 

  
Iwaizumi moaned as he tightened his fist, stroking faster. He has always been sensitive in the morning and added by his vivid dream, he was getting close quicker than he would like.

  
He imagines Oikawa’s eyes going wide with surprise when Iwaizumi slowly moves his hips, then going faster, fucking Oikawa’s mouth. He imagines how hot it would be. Oikawa would be so wet but he’d be perfect - going pliant under Iwaizumi’s touch. He imagines Oikawa’s face when Iwaizumi covers it with his cum, eyes wide blinking up at him as pearly white drops stain his eyes to his mouth.

  
Iwaizumi bit his lip harshly to keep quiet, but he can’t help the groans that come out from his chest. He continued to rub his member, then his hips jerked upwards – once, twice – before his orgasm took over him. 

  
Iwaizumi laid there in his bed, spent. After a while, he stood up to get ready for his class. He can hear Oikawa in the kitchen making breakfast – the scuffle of pans and plates echoing around the room. 

  
After his morning routine, he changed into a black turtleneck shirt coupled with a dark blue denim jacket, choosing a pair of black jeans, ripped at the knees, as his lower clothing. Ever since _that_ night, he’d been pretty conscious of what he wears. He noticed the way Oikawa’s eyes lingered on him every time he dressed up and he wanted to take full advantage of that – it strokes his ego to know that Oikawa finds him attractive because god knows that it’s true the other way around.

  
He eyed the black baseball cap on his desk, then with a quick decision, grabbed it and strapped it to his bag. 

  
He took slow steps to the kitchen – his mind flashing back to what he has done the minute he woke up. He still can’t keep a stare with Oikawa – remembering _that_ night and his reoccurring dreams. And now, that he has finally done what he has sworn never to do...  
He takes a deep breath. 

  
_It’s just Oikawa. You have survived these past days. You can do it._

  
He entered the kitchen.

  
_He can’t fucking do it._

  
“W-what – “ Iwaizumi started, his eyes never leaving the checkered black and white pencil skirt wrapped around Oikawa’s waist. It was just as short as his cheerleader skirt. But, instead of flaring upon his thighs, this time it fit to him like a glove – accentuating his waist and hips. His eyes went down to (again - _Iwaizumi swears he’s never been this attracted to a pair of legs before_ ) his exposed legs, as if it was reflex to look at them every time Oikawa wears a skirt. Or shorts – _Oikawa would also look good in shorts_ , his mind added. He waved off the thought. He had enough struggles to deal with so early in the morning.

  
At the sound of Iwaizumi’s voice, Oikawa looked up from where he was frying omelettes. “Good morning, Iwa-chan – oooh,” He smiled. “We match.” 

  
Oikawa gestured at his own jacket hung over the back of his chair. It was an oversized faded denim jacket with a soft padding on the collar and inside. Huh. He turned back to Oikawa. Only now did he notice the black long-sleeved shirt the latter had been wearing. It was tight, emphasizing the broad of his shoulders and the taper of his waist where his shirt had been tucked in beneath the skirt. _Huh_.

  
“Breakfast is ready,” Oikawa announced, carrying the plate of food to the table. Iwaizumi wordlessly followed still onslaught with questions.

  
They uttered their blessings before digging in. Iwaizumi continued to stare at Oikawa while the other was eating, scrolling through his phone. Sensing Iwaizumi has not made a move, Oikawa looked at him, question in his eyes.

  
“What are you wearing?” Iwaizumi asked all at once to get to the bottom end of the line quickly.

  
“Oh,” Oikawa chuckled softly. “I was pretty uncomfortable wearing the uniform – you know, my cheerleading one – so, Yui-chan suggested I try wearing a skirt regularly so I get used to the feeling.”

  
Iwaizumi thought that it made sense. He, too, would feel uncomfortable wearing a skirt, used to pants and trousers. But it still didn’t make it any easier for him. Is this going to be a regular occurrence now? He paled at the realization – he doesn’t think he could make it very far without doing something stupid – like kiss Oikawa until they both can’t breathe stupid.

  
“It really is weird, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa twisted his mouth, setting his phone on the table as he used his hand to emphasize his words.

  
“I can feel the air on my thighs! It’s really breezy!”

  
Iwaizumi laughed loudly at Oikawa’s description and his matching expression. His face was formed in a half-shock and half-amusement. Iwaizumi didn’t know how he was able to pull the look but then again, it’s Oikawa – he can pull off any look he wants to make.

  
He pointed his chopsticks at Oikawa. “You brought this on to yourself. Why are you complaining now?” He asked, smiling at Oikawa’s mock crestfallen face.

  
“It’s not that I’m complaining. It’s just – weird. But it’s also great! The girls are nice and I love cheering and – it’s fun.”

  
Iwaizumi took note of how Oikawa lighted up while talking. The morning light kissed him softly, enhancing his side profile – making him appear as if he was glowing. Or maybe it was just Iwaizumi’s biased eyes.

  
They quickly finished their meal after that. The walk to their campus was short. When they arrived, Iwaizumi felt like everyone was watching them. Well, Oikawa had always been the type to draw people’s attention on him. And now, especially with his extremely flashy outfit and his confident aura, he was practically begging to be looked at. 

  
He glanced up at the easy smile on Oikawa. He scoffed. Of course he’s basking in all the eyes drawn to him. 

  
Oikawa exclaimed a _bye, bye, Iwa-chan_ , waving his hand wildly as they went to their separate buildings. Iwaizumi stayed still, however, as he watched Oikawa meet up with his blockmates. They all greeted him enthusiastically and complimented his attire. 

  
Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes at the tall man who slung an arm around Oikawa. Kenji. He remembered Oikawa telling him about this friend of his. He was in Oikawa’s close knit of friends in their block. But Iwaizumi never assumed they were _that_ close. He waited for a while for Oikawa to shrug off Kenji’s touch. But it never came. Rather, Oikawa giggled hysterically at something he had said, leaning further in to his embrace. Kenji seemed to have liked this for Iwaizumi could practically see the way he tightened his hold on Oikawa.

  
Iwaizumi’s jaw clenched as the sour feeling of jealousy simmered in his stomach. His hand curled into a fist, his nails piercing his palm. He knew. He had always known he had no right to feel the way he is feeling now. But it didn’t stop him anyhow. He badly wanted to march up to them, rip off the arm wrongly curled around Oikawa, and kiss him, claim him, all in front of them to stress that Oikawa is _his_.

  
“Iwaizumi,” A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Kuroo.

  
“C’mon, class is starting,” He stated, then he looked at the direction where Iwaizumi’s eyed had previously been.

  
His face broke out into a grin, then Iwaizumi grunted, “Shut it. I’m not in the mood.”

  
He walked past Kuroo who followed him behind, not looking back even once.

Lunch at the cafeteria had always been noisy and rowdy. More so now that they pushed several tables together to create a long one where they could gather around – them being the volleyball players of their university, men and women. They were at the center of the room. Any other day, Iwaizumi might have been embarrassed at the commotion they’re making but he’s not in a particularly good mood today – still miffed on the situation he saw that morning. 

  
He hid it well, though. Laughing and talking along his teammates. He had been engrossed in conversation with Aiko – a player from the women’s team. She had also come from Miyagi and now they’re recounting stories of their hometowns as they sat across from each other. She was a good conversationalist, filling in the gaps Iwaizumi had left. They had gotten to the part where she told Iwaizumi of the beginning of her volleyball life when loud screams erupted among his teammates.

  
He swerved his head to see what the clamor was all about only to see an Oikawa at the other end of the table. His face was unreadable, even to Iwaizumi, as he stared at the latter. Then, as if it was all a mirage, he smiled, returning the greets he had received upon his arrival. His eyes kept going back on Iwaizumi, though, as he replied to their small talks.

  
Iwaizumi scowled, petty. 

  
“Oi, bring him here already,” someone shouted, he didn’t know and care who. He kept his gaze on Oikawa.

  
Suddenly the people near him stood up, moving. He didn’t understand what was going on at first until an empty spot beside him came into view.

  
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I have my seat, right – “ Oikawa smiled evilly, then without remorse, plopped his body sideways on Iwaizumi’s lap, “here.” He finished, clinging his arms on Iwaizumi’s neck, his smirk malicious and sinistered with hidden intentions.

  
The noise around them became louder in response to Oikawa’s grand gesture. 

  
“Oikawa, you’re such a shameless bastard,” Matsukawa cackled from the other side of the table, two seats down from Aiko, who was directly across from him.

  
“Never said I was anything but, Matsun~” He replied before turning back to Iwaizumi.

  
“Hi,”

  
“Why do you always have to be so extra?” 

  
Oikawa said nothing but the smile stayed put. Iwaizumi then felt fingers trailing along his neck, lightly caressing it. He felt his face getting hotter at Oikawa’s touch. He tried to look into Oikawa but the latter wouldn’t meet his gaze, flitting his eyes all across Iwaizumi’s face save for his eyes. Oikawa then moved his fingers up to Iwaizumi’s ear, playing with it, fondling the flesh slowly and delicately.

  
“What are you doing?” He whisper-shouted. 

  
It’s a good thing his teammates have gone back to their own businesses, not minding how Oikawa is still there perched on his lap. Well, except for Kuroo and Matsukawa. They kept whispering among themselves, casually looking at their direction while wiggling their eyebrows, making finger hearts and kissy faces. Iwaizumi decided then and there that he needed new friends. Ones who won’t embarrass the hell out of him.

  
“Hmm. Nothing,” Oikawa answered. He shifted his hips, probably trying to get comfortable, and only now did he remember that Oikawa was wearing a skirt – a skirt that kept riding up every time he shuffled.

  
Without thinking, he put a hand on Oikawa’s thigh to still him. With this, memories of _that_ night came back. It seemed like Oikawa was thinking the same thing because his digits stopped moving. A pinkish tint flooded Oikawa’s cheeks.

  
Iwaizumi smirked. He’s pleased to know that he still has this effect on Oikawa. Pushing his luck, he curled his arm around Oikawa’s waist, pulling him tighter to him. 

  
At this position, he only has to tilt his head up a little to reach Oikawa’s ear, “Comfortable?”

  
He dragged his nose along the side of Oikawa’s neck, inhaling his scent. 

  
Oikawa shrieked, placing a hand all over Iwaizumi’s face and pushing it away. 

  
“FOOD! I STILL NEED TO BUY FOOD, IWA-CHAN.”

  
Iwaizumi shoved Oikawa’s hand, cursing at the laughs Oikawa’s outburst had gained. Oikawa stood up, Iwaizumi following right behind him. Oikawa looked at him like he grew two heads.

  
“What?”

  
“Nothing.” Oikawa shook his head before heading to the display of food near the counter. Iwaizumi put a hand on the small of Oikawa’s back, guiding him to where the actual meals were, knowing Oikawa he’d only be buying packs of milk bread. 

  
As Oikawa picked his food, Iwaizumi asked the question that has been bothering him since early morning. 

  
“You’re pretty close with Kenji, huh?”

  
“Kenji? Yeah, he’s my friend.”

  
Iwaizumi ran a hand through his nape. 

  
“I mean – uh – d-do – do you like him?” Iwaizumi continued to stare at the tables on his left to avoid Oikawa’s inquisitive eyes. “Uhm – you know – uh, romantically?”  
His ears flushed as he posed his question. Oikawa was silent, having stopped from what he was doing. He only focused on Iwaizumi.

  
Iwaizumi laughed awkwardly.

  
“Sorry – nevermind, that was a stupid question,” he smiled tightly before moving to pick up Oikawa’s tray. 

  
He started walking when Oikawa gripped at the hem of his shirt.

  
Iwaizumi looked back at Oikawa.

  
“I don’t.” 

  
His voice was firm and resolute. Iwaizumi’s heartbeat quickened at the intensity of his gaze, conveying that Oikawa was telling the truth. 

  
It was just two words. Two words said unwaveringly. But it gave him more than enough hope.

  
Iwaizumi returned Oikawa’s stare, matching his emotion.

  
“Good.”

  
Then his mouth turned upwards, a pure grin making his way onto his face, mirroring Oikawa’s own.

The gym was loud. They were on their volleyball practice. Iwaizumi had lost track of time but noticing how it was already dark outside, it must be past 6 already. They went at it for some time before their coach had finally let them go. They were all quiet at the locker room, tired from a rather intense practice. Iwaizumi took a quick shower, waving goodbye to his teammates before heading to Oikawa’s building.

  
Oikawa had texted him earlier to let him know if practice was done. He was apparently having a good time chatting with his friends.

  
Iwaizumi knocked on the door to their room before pushing it open. Oikawa and his friends have gathered in a loose circle at the bottom of the lecture hall, each sitting on a monobloc chair. Iwaizumi was surprised that there were still a lot present given the time. And they looked like they were having such a good time.

  
He climbed down the stairs.

  
“Hey,” he said, announcing his arrival. All heads turned at him but he kept his focus on Oikawa whose eyes lit up like a Christmas tree at seeing Iwaizumi in front of him. This. This was what he hoped he could get. Seeing Oikawa’s shocked face as Iwaizumi surprises him with his actions never fails to make his heart skip a beat.

  
“Wha – Iwa-chan!” He stood up, walking towards Iwaizumi. “I told you to just text me. You didn’t have to come here.” 

  
Oikawa looked like he was still in a daze. Iwaizumi smiled softly.

  
“I wanted to.”

  
Oikawa bit his lip, but his mouth still twitched upwards.

  
“Let’s go? Lemme just say goodbye,”

  
“No. It’s okay. We can stay for awhile.”

  
Oikawa’s bright smile was more than enough to remove all his exhaustion. He greeted the rest of them as he took an empty chair beside Oikawa. They asked him questions, mostly about volleyball. They were a funny group. No wonder Oikawa had a hard time leaving them. The conversation flowed easily from topic to topic. It delighted Iwaizumi to know that Oikawa had found new people he could rely on. It’s not like there was less time for their old friends, but it felt different, because these people were the ones Oikawa interacted with everyday. It made his heart warm knowing that Oikawa had formed a new strong bond with the people around him. New people to look out for him, new people to support him, new people to love Oikawa for who he is – an utterly loveable person who loves selflessly and wholly.

  
Iwaizumi leaned back on his chair, bending one of his leg and resting it on top of his knee, making a number 4. He tossed his arm on top of the back of Oikawa’s chair, tapping it with his fingers, rhythmically. 

  
Oikawa slouched a little, fitting himself in the curve of Iwaizumi’s side. Iwaizumi, in return, carded his fingers in the fluff of Oikawa’s hair, scratching the scalp softly with his nails. Iwaizumi had wanted to retire early to his bed, call it a day. But, in this room, with Oikawa by his side as they had fun with his friends was a moment Iwaizumi would not trade for anything.

  
**

  
“Man, you’re a fucking beast,” Kuroo stated as he squatted beside Iwaizumi who was bench pressing.

  
Matsukawa came over them, then peered at the weight Iwaizumi was using, whistling at the number.

  
“Can’t help it. This one’s got a boyfriend to impress,” Kuroo snickered at Matsukawa’s words, replying a _nice one, bro_ while they bumped their knuckles.

  
“Not a –“ He grunted, blowing air out of his mouth, “boyfriend –“ he pushed the bar up again, “ – yet.”

  
He didn’t see it but he swore both of his friends’ eyes went wide at his confession before they cheered, pumping their fists.

  
“Finally! Oh god, finally. Feels like I just won the lotto. Thank god.” 

  
Iwaizumi ignored them, concentrating on his workout. After a while, he deemed himself finished.

  
He slowly sat up, stretching his neck then rolling his shoulders. 

  
“So, what’s the plan?” Matsukawa and Kuroo were at his sides immediately.

  
“When are you going to ask him out?”

  
“When’s the wedding?”

  
“Oh my god,” Iwaizumi almost rolled his eyes. Almost. He was tempted to but refrained from doing it. “There’s no plan. I’m just – I’m going with the flow.”

  
“Dude,” Kuroo shoved at his shoulder. “Are you fucking serious? For real?”

  
Iwaizumi nodded. “Yeah. I’m happy with what we have now.”

  
“What?!” Matsukawa stopped right in front of him, blocking his path with his arms stretched towards Iwaizumi. He glanced at Kuroo to see the taller with his arms crossed, a grimace on his face.

  
“Don’t you want to make it official? Be his boyfriend?”

  
“Kiss him? Make love to him?” 

  
Matsukawa cringed at his statement, as if the mental image of Iwaizumi and Oikawa fucking disgusts him.  
Iwaizumi sighed. 

  
“Of course I fucking do.”

  
Kuroo slapped him on the back of his head. 

  
“Then why the fuck are you being a pussy?”

  
Iwaizumi glared at him, rubbing his head. “I’m not. I’m just waiting for the right time.”

  
“Sounds like being a pussy to me,” Matsukawa shrugged.

  
Iwaizumi shook his head at the two. He knew that they both mean well but it doesn’t make it any easier. He’s scared of disrupting the balance in his relationship with Oikawa. He’s scared that he might fuck up and lose Oikawa for good.

  
Kuroo exhaled deeply then put an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

  
“Look, Iwaizumi. You better listen carefully.”

  
“The two of you are hovering over this line. Not platonic yet not officially romantic either. Are you just going to stay in this position forever? If you’re scared, don’t you think Oikawa is scared too? Are you just going to keep being scared? Are you just going to keep Oikawa waiting? Are you just going to push away his chances of finding love because he’s stuck on a person who can’t even fight for him? Oikawa’s not gonna stay forever, man. Whether you like it or not. He’s not going to stay unless you _do_ something to make him stay. Like, you know, make him officially yours.”

  
Iwaizumi’s jaw clenched, Kuroo’s words hitting him deep into his bones. 

  
“Iwaizumi. Look at me, look at me,” Matsukawa grabbed his shoulders, staring intensely at Iwaizumi. 

  
“I’ve been with you two for so long. I’ve seen you together. That’s what you have always been, okay? Together. No one knows you like Oikawa does. No one makes you happy like Oikawa does. Admit it. And the same goes for him. Listen to me. Don’t you think you have been a coward long enough?”

When Iwaizumi arrived home, he was met with the sight of Oikawa wearing his jersey and some shorts with colorful hairclips decorating his hair. Oikawa greeted him with an _okaeri_ and a wide grin on his face.

  
Iwaizumi can’t shake off the deep conversation he had a while ago. He gulped, muttering a _tadaima_. 

  
Ever observant, Oikawa moved closer, “Are you okay?” 

  
He had his eyebrows scrunched and Iwaizumi cursed mentally for ruining his happy mood. “Yeah, sure. Why are you wearing my shirt?” He asked, deflecting the topic.

  
Oikawa eyed him for a while but thankfully did not ask him further. “I’m doing laundry and it’s too cold to stay shirtless,” Oikawa whined, effectively diffusing the tension.

  
“And the clips?” He pointed at Oikawa’s hair.

  
“Hina-chan gave me these. They’re cute, right?” 

  
Iwaizumi only hummed. 

  
_Yes. They are so fucking cute. And you’re fucking beautiful. And you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. And god knows what I would do if I ever lost you. And I want to fucking kiss you. And I want to tell you that I love you. I fucking love you. Oh god. I love you so fucking much_.

  
Oikawa turned to head to their laundry room. 

  
Iwaizumi grabbed his arm.

  
When he said nothing, Oikawa asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  
Iwaizumi could tear up at the worry on Oikawa’s face. He looked at Oikawa. The messy hair adorned with clips, his expressive eyes that were no laced with concern, his lips shaped in a frown, his jersey hanging loose on the shoulders, soap suds staining his arms, how he has always been Iwaizumi’s side – a steady force, ever loving and caring, how he looked like in their shared apartment they now call home – soft whispers in the morning and hopeful wishes by night, and how Iwaizumi just _loves_ him.

  
“I love you. I am so in love with you.”

  
His heart pounded as he said those words. It was a miracle he had not stuttered. Maybe it was because of the courage he had got from his supportive friends. Or maybe it was just this easy. It was this natural. Loving Oikawa is like breathing. Iwaizumi doesn’t have to think about it. It just happens. 

  
To his complete surprise, Oikawa cried. Silent tears falling down his cheeks. Then he sobbed, moving to hug Iwaizumi.

  
“I-I love you too, Iwa-chan. Even though you made me wait for so long.” 

  
Iwaizumi’s eyes welled up at the confession. He wrapped an around Oikawa while the other guides Oikawa’s head to the curve of his neck. Oikawa tightened his hold, afraid to let go. Iwaizumi rubbed his back soothingly.

  
When Oikawa’s sobs had stopped, they pulled away, but not too far, their bodies still connected. Iwaizumi cradled Oikawa’s face with both of his hands then wiped off the tear stains with his thumbs.

  
“You’re such an ugly crier,” Iwaizumi chuckled at Oikawa’s weak whine.

  
“I love you,” Iwaizumi repeats, before kissing Oikawa on his forehead.

  
He pressed tiny kisses then on his eyes, cheeks, his nose, whispering _I love you’s_ in between. Oikawa whimpered every time Iwaizumi’s lips touched his skin, his strong emotions resonating on such an intimate action.

  
Iwaizumi looked into Oikawa’s eyes again.

  
“I love you. Thank you for loving me too.”

  
Oikawa wrapped his own hands on Iwaizumi’s wrists, thumb rubbing on the skin. 

  
Iwaizumi leaned in, tilting his head as his lips met Oikawa’s in a soft kiss. 

  
It was more of a long peck. But it was everything Iwaizumi could ask for. They pulled away, Oikawa’s eyes still shut closed. He smiled softly before capturing his lips again. This time, it was short pecks.

  
Oikawa’s brows furrowed, lips following Iwaizumi’s when he pulled away again after some time. It was like he couldn’t get enough of Oikawa. He leaned in, this time, he opened his mouth, his hand grabbing Oikawa’s chin, gesturing him to do the same.

  
Iwaizumi dropped his hands, one framing Oikawa’s neck while the other around his waist, pulling him closer to Iwaizumi. Oikawa tilted his head to the opposite side as he slots their lips together. He captured Iwaizumi’s bottom lip, sucking on it, eliciting a groan from the man. His own hands travelled to Iwaizumi’s hair, tugging at the strands.

  
“Tooru,” Iwaizumi whispered in between their kisses. Tooru ignored him, instead, he ran his tongue over Iwaizumi’s lips, a hint for him to open his mouth, which Iwaizumi did obediently. 

  
They both moaned at the touch of their tongues. Iwaizumi ran his hands all over Oikawa’s body, before settling at the back of his thighs, swooping him up in his arms. 

  
“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Oikawa sighed. He took in Iwaizumi’s mouth harsher as the latter presses him against a wall. 

  
“Like that?” Iwaizumi pulled his lips away from Oikawa’s to mouth at his jaw, finally tasting Oikawa, then to his neck, licking and kissing at the flesh.

  
Oikawa moaned out, softly, “Yes. Fuck – just like that, Hajime.”

  
Iwaizumi’s nails dug into Oikawa’s bare thighs as Oikawa sobbed out Iwaizumi’s name lewdly. Oikawa, on the other hand, tightened his legs around Iwaizumi’s waist as his hands clutched on his biceps, feeling the muscle bulging.

  
Iwaizumi could feel himself getting hard. And so was Oikawa – his cock poking Iwaizumi’s stomach.

  
“Tooru,” he breathed on Oikawa’s neck. “Do you want to stop – or – “

  
“No, please. Hajime,” He grinded his hips against Iwaizumi’s, making him grunt at the friction.

  
“Fuck. Are you sure?” He stared at Oikawa. 

  
Oikawa grabbed at his face, smashing their lips, “Yes. Fuck me, Hajime. Please.”

  
Iwaizumi cursed at Oikawa for sounding so innocent at asking something so dirty. He carried Oikawa to his room as the brunette tried to distract him by pressing open-mouthed kisses on his neck, occasionally sinking his teeth.

  
He dropped Oikawa on the bed, no patience for finesse. He got rid of his shirt quickly before hovering above Oikawa. He stayed still for a moment, appreciating the way Oikawa’s hair fanned out on his pillow. Iwaizumi took out the hairclips tied to his hair placing them on his bedside table. 

  
Iwaizumi pressed a tender kiss on Oikawa’s forehead before dipping down to claim his lips again in a deep kiss. He dropped his weight on one forearm as his other hand drifted towards the hem of Oikawa’s shirt. He slowly crept his hand underneath the fabric, lightly feeling Oikawa’s hard stomach. He dragged his hand upwards, the shirt along with it. His thumb rolled at Oikawa’s nipple, a groan coming out from Oikawa. He did it again, then again.

  
Oikawa kept on squirming as Iwaizumi assaulted the flesh, letting out soft whispers.

  
“Sensitive?” Iwaizumi whispered against Oikawa’s lips. He didn’t give Oikawa any time to answer before he sunk down, replacing his hand with his mouth. Oikawa’s back arched.

  
“ _Oh my god_ ,” Oikawa wrapped one of his legs on Iwaizumi’s back, digging his heel on his back. His hand tightly gripped at Iwaizumi’s hair.

  
Iwaizumi moved to the other nipple, giving it the same harsh treatment. After a moment, he sat back up to shrug Oikawa’s shirt off him.

  
“So beautiful,” he moved to kiss all over Oikawa’s bare torso, “so hot. I love you so much.”

  
“Iwa-chan, I love you too but please hurry,” Oikawa whined. 

  
Iwaizumi chuckled before standing up to remove his remaining clothing, leaving him naked, Oikawa doing the same. He then grabbed at one of Oikawa’s legs, mouthing at his calf, up to his thigh.

  
“You really like my legs, don’t you?”

  
“They’ve been haunting ever since you first wore a skirt.”

  
Oikawa’s laugh drifted into a moan when Iwaizumi’s teeth sunk onto the meaty flesh. Iwaizumi’s open kisses were hungry as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste. Iwaizumi did the same to the other leg before moving up to get some lube and a condom.

  
He then leaned to kiss Oikawa, his hand moving to stroke his cock, Oikawa jolting at the touch. 

  
“C’mon,” Oikawa insisted.

  
Iwaizumi slicked his fingers, pecking Oikawa one more time before inserting one finger. He stayed still for a while before moving his finger, thrusting in and out of Oikawa. When Oikawa whined out a _more_ he complied, adding one more finger into Oikawa, stretching him. 

  
Iwaizumi’s lips roamed around Oikawa’s body, paying special attention to his collarbones which seem to be his most sensitive spot. Iwaizumi added one more digit, his hand smacking against Oikawa with every thrust he made.

  
When Oikawa seemed ready, Iwaizumi rolled a condom on his length, slicking it up with lube, then stroked himself for a little. 

  
He hovered above Oikawa.

  
“I love you.”

  
Oikawa kissed him deeply in return, locking his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck. 

  
Slowly, Iwaizumi bottomed out. They both moaned in unison, the sound echoing around the room. Iwaizumi pressed fleeting kisses all over Oikawa as he let the latter relax to the size. 

  
After some time, Oikawa weakly said, “Move. Please move, Hajime,”

  
Complying to his request, Iwaizumi slowly pulled out then thrusted back in. He did this for a few times before quickening his pace. 

  
“So good, Hajime,” Oikawa sobbed, clutching onto the bed sheets.

  
“Yeah? You feel so good, too, Tooru,”

  
Iwaizumi grasped at Oikawa’s legs, locking them behind his back and hitching them up. He pounded into Oikawa harder, groaning at his heat.

  
Oikawa shrieked when Iwaizumi hit his prostate, his back arching from the bed while his toes curled at the sensation.

  
“There, there – hah, Hajime, please.”

  
Iwaizumi continued on abusing the tender spot, his own orgasm nearing. 

  
“I’m close, Tooru,”

  
“Yes – aaah, me too, me too, ngghh. Fuccck,”

  
Iwaizumi moved his hips faster, his hand moving to roll Oikawa’s nipple beneath his fingers.

  
“O, ‘m gonna—‘m cumming, ‘m cumming, _oh fuck_ , hngh,” 

  
Oikawa clenched so tight around Iwaizumi as cum spurted from his cock, painting his chest white. His limbs collapsed as he climbed down from his high.

  
Iwaizumi’s hips stuttered before he gave one last thrust, his orgasm taking over his entire body.

  
He flopped down at the spot beside Oikawa, basking in the post-orgasmic glow.

  
Oikawa laid sideways, looking at Iwaizumi with one arm under his head, while the other trailed his fingers on Iwaizumi’s chest.

  
“I love you.”

  
Iwaizumi smiled softly, lifting his arm as Oikawa nuzzled into his side. Iwaizumi pressed his mouth on top of Oikawa’s head, kissing it gently. Then they both fell asleep together, sated and contented as the promise of their love envelops them.

  
**

  
The beating of the drums and the shouts of the crowd overwhelmed Iwaizumi. He had just gotten a good spike in, scoring another point for their team – making them at their matchpoint. 

  
Volleyball league had just started and this was their first match. Iwaizumi didn’t mean to be cocky but it was a fairly easy game. He attributed it to their regular practices and the good chemistry among their team and –

  
“GO, GO, IWA-CHAN!!! THAT’S MY IWA-CHAN!!! WHOOO!!”

  
The crowd was loud but Oikawa didn’t let that get to him as he cheered louder than ever. His teammates chided him saying that he should cheer for the team as a whole.

  
“Ohohohoho. Got a great cheerleader there, Iwaizumi,” He smirked at Kuroo.

  
Oikawa stood among the cheerleaders, all dressed up in their uniforms as he waved his pom-poms up in the air. He blew a kiss at Iwaizumi when he turned to look at them, Iwaizumi indulged him as he pretended to catch the kiss and placed it on his heart.

  
“Yucks. I don’t know which is worse, you before Oikawa or after,” Kuroo made a gagging noise. 

  
“Save the foreplay later, big man. We still got to win the game.”

  
Iwaizumi nodded, going back to the game. Just one more point. The whistle blew as their team served. Their opponent received it perfectly, as they now turned into offense. Their set came to their outside hitter, who had hit it forcefully but their team had received it, ball going to their own setter.

  
Iwaizumi moved, his focus concentrated on the ball. He jumped, extending his arm widely, as the ball came to him, he spiked, right in between the blockers’ arms. The ball hit the floor soundly as he got back to his feet on the floor. 

  
Iwaizumi exhaled deeply. The whistle blew announcing their win. Iwaizumi was then immediately surrounded by his teammates, ruffling his air, praising him. As the team parted around him, Oikawa came into view with a wide smile on his face.

  
He then ran into Iwaizumi’s open arms as the latter lifted him up, kissing him deeply.in front of all the people. Everybody shouted, cheered – whether for their victory or for Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s public display of affection – Iwaizumi didn’t care. He focused on how Oikawa tastes as he cradled the back of his head, deepening the kiss. 

  
They pulled away, however, Iwaizumi didn’t put Oikawa down. 

  
“You’re clearly enjoying this,” Oikawa teased.

  
“Hmm. You’re clearly rubbing on me,” he retorted, rubbing their noses together.

  
“Get a fucking room, you two!”

  
They both glared at Matsukawa whose arm is wrapped around Hanamaki. 

  
Oikawa stuck his tongue at him. Iwaizumi chuckled before letting Oikawa back down on his feet. He framed Oikawa’s face in his hands, giving him a small peck.

  
“I love you,”

  
He pressed their foreheads together as Oikawa closed his eyes, bringing his hand to encircle his hands around Iwaizumi’s wrist.

  
“Lucky me, I guess.”

  
Iwaizumi shoved him off but Oikawa pulled him back to him. 

  
“I love you, too.”

  
Iwaizumi smiled, before leaning in close to whisper in Oikawa’s ear.

  
“I’m fucking you later with that skirt on, by the way,”

  
Oikawa screeched as he pushed Iwaizumi away, a scandalous look in his face. Iwaizumi laughed.

  
_God, he’s so fucking in love_.

**Author's Note:**

> hoped you loved it!!
> 
> please read my other works too ☺☺


End file.
